R E G R E T

I can roll a tissue on a carpet. I can then roll the carpet on the tissue. So the tissue can get stuck. Suffocate. Mercilessly. By my hand. I can place the tissue under the carpet, and let it get crushed in darkness.

I place the tissue on the carpet and cry. I care for the tissue and it doesn't deserve anything like this. But the tissue knows what I had in mind. It ignores me. Avoids me. And all I can do is cry eternally...

You could crush a tomato with a baseball bat. You could let the tomato slowly get crushed by the baseball bat's weight. You could drown the tomato in a can filled with water. You could empty out the can, plae the tomato, let it rot, and either crush it or leave it in pain.

You don't. You didn't think of any of this. Nobody ignores, nor avoids you. You haven't done anything. And all you can do is be happy.

I feel guilty. You feel happy.

I feel heavy. You feel light.

A star on the sky. Smiling at me. I look at it. I get out a ladder. I want to pick it up. I touch it. It avoids me. I climb down.

The following night, I look up, and see the star's back: I hurt it. It ignores me. I cry, and leave. It's best I leave it alone.

The following night, I peek through a window. The star ignores me. There is no hope. I leave, and cry.

I have a chair. I like my chair. It is my friend.

I want more wood. I am near the chair. I chop down one of its legs: I exploit it. I made a mistake.

I look at the chair. It doesn't look back. It ignores me. I want my chair. I want my friend back.

But I can't. It is too late. There is no hope. I cry, and leave.